


The Walk Alone

by VampireHydeFTW



Category: Versailles (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-08-29 02:07:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8471416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireHydeFTW/pseuds/VampireHydeFTW
Summary: He had always followed the rules, never given in to temptation, and that was why he was one of the best. He knew his life would be walked alone, and he was happy to do so, that was until he met a Lord who's very existence threatened the way he had always lived his life.





	1. Chapter 1

**~Prologue~**

 

The young boy stopped, giving the other child an angry glare as he stood watching him play. The plank of wood, secured to a large tree branch, had been placed there by his father. For him, not the boy who was using it right now. Usually when he gave this look, other boys jumped straight of the swing, or cheekily asked for permission, they knew not to make him mad.

“Hey!” the happy boy said, smiling over at the angry child, “This is so much fun, have you ever tried it?”

“It's my swing,” he answered. Perhaps this boy didn't know that it was his? He'd never seen him before, just a stranger passing by. He'd assumed he was the child of a merchant or traveller at first, but as he approached he realised the blue kimono was far better quality than even the wealthiest of children would have owned. Better even than the kimono his mother had worn to marry his father, and that was a fine garment indeed.

“Did you build it?” the stranger asked, his smile not wavering once.

“My father made it,” he protested, “Only my friends are allowed to use it.”

“Well then, I guess I have no choice but to be your friend,” came the cheerful answer, “You can call me Yuu if you like?”

“What if I don't want to be your friend?” he answered, still rather taken back by the whole encounter.

“Nobody has ever not wanted to be my friend before,” Yuu answered, sounding hurt by the idea. What kind of child was always liked? It was unheard of, every child he had ever met had faced rejection at least once.

“You're a Lord,” the boy realised. Even as young as eight, he was well aware of how the world worked. Even his father, who was feared by everyone, feared the wrath of a Lord. They, and their Samurai, were like a plague across the land. Killing as they wished, taking as they wished, destroying as they wished. Crops, jewels and even the common people were there's for the taking. No wonder nobody had ever expressed dislike of this young boy.

“Is it that obvious?” Yuu asked, “I made sure not to wear any of my jewels. What gave me away?”

“Your clothes, your mannerisms, your very attitude,” he listed, “You suck at playing pretend.”

“I'll get better,” Yuu said stubbornly, pouting as he spotted a figure in the distance, “They've found me anyway, I'll have to go back to my lessons now. Will you at least tell me your name before I go?”

“Teru,” the boy admitted, not sure if he could trust this lord with even that much information.

“Teru,” Yuu repeated, “Thanks for letting me use your swing.”

 

**~Chapter One~**

 

Her hands were warm and soft as they slid beneath his clothes and he gave her a practised smile. The attention she was giving him did nothing for him, but she didn't seem to mind at all. Just another whore, there to serve her filthy demands. She believed he would be pleasuring her tonight, just as she had described, and he let her believe. He was a master of deception, the lord of surprise. As much as she had paid him, his other client had paid him far more.

Sensing the moment, he slipped the knife from beneath his clothes and caught her attention with a kiss. She stiffened beneath him then, blood tainting the taste of her lips. It was an improvement, Teru thought as he pulled back from the corpse. He'd been trained not to feel guilt, but in this kill he had even felt pleasure. She truly had been a terrible in life.

He quickly withdrew his blade, returning it to it's sheaf against his leg, and rearranged his clothes. A moment later he was crouching on the roof above, crawling slowly towards the building next door.

He returned to the street with ease, slipping behind a real prostitute and returning to the corner he had been just ten minutes before. He muttered loudly about how his client had ditched him for a younger man, kicked a rock angrily across the street, and stormed away past the watching men. There was his alibi, as if he had ever needed one at all.

 

In the safety of his own home he removed the black wig, revealing his prematurely grey hair beneath. His whole family had been cursed with that particular flaw, but he personally liked it this way. Healthy and strong his hair looked silver to his eyes, his young face making it perfectly clear he was a man in his twenties and not an old man. That was if you could look away from his large, enchanting, blue eyes.

“Welcome home, Teruaki,” his father greeted him, making him jump as he hadn't heard the older man arrive at all. No matter how much training her had, his father could always sneak up on him. They didn't call him a legend over nothing. “All was successful, I hope?”

“I haven't let you down yet, father,” Teru answered, “Everything went as planned, though I hate having to dress like a common whore.”

“There's nothing common about you, my son,” his father reassured him. “Never have I seen a young shinobi, so good at resisting the temptations of the flesh.”

“It may be your flaw, but it's not mine,” Teru teased him, “I know my duty.”

“We all have our flaws,” his father warned, “ To acknowledge them is to conquer them. I found your mother, and my temptation was gone. What is you flaw, boy? If you can't answer, then it's beating you down.”

“You know I don't know that,” Teru protested, “Why must you scold me, when I've always done what you asked?”

“One day you will be the best,” his father answered, the first time he had ever expressed such sentiments, “That's why I must push you.”

“You think I can be the best?” Teru repeated. He knew he was good, but his friend Yuki was his equal in every way. Always they had competed against each other, the whole clan knowing that one day it would be one of them in charge.

“For three generations our family had held the position of Elder, you will be the fourth. Unless you are not my son?” his father threatened. Even his compliments were twisted by malice, but deep down Teru knew his father loved him.

“I am your only son,” Teru answered. “But you're not here to reaffirm that, are you? Such talk would have waited to the morning.”

“When you were a boy, you befriended a Lord your own age,” his father prompted, “Do you remember who it was?”

“Kamijo Yuuji,” he answered without hesitation. His father had been so proud of the way he had handled himself that day. Connections were everything to a shinobi, and he had made a powerful one. Even though he hadn't seen Yuu since, the family had left town the day after they had met.

“He is to be your next target,” his father warned, “Unless you think Yuki would be better suited for the role?”

“He was a stranger, I can handle this,” Teru reassured him, “What needs to be done?”

 

Sleepily Teru sat in the carriage, watching the fields pass by. He'd barely slept at all last night, having come home late and starting his new mission in the early hours of the next morning. He was to be the son of a wealthy merchant, visiting the Lord in the hopes of securing a trade agreement. If he was lucky he would be invited into his home, if not the surveillance would be harder.

He would never say it out loud, but he had been relieved that there were no orders to kill on this mission. He was simply to locate the client's missing son, Masasya. Once done he report back and, assuming Masaya was alive, return him safely to his father. It all sounded too easy, which usually meant it was going to be anything but. Just how he liked it.

Outside the carriage window, the endless flat fields gave way to the hills, and then mountains, until they were approaching the highest mountain yet. The capital had been built on the cliff side, but they wouldn't be reaching there today. The mountain was too steep for already tired horses. They would finish the journey in the morning.

He stepped out of the carriage, beginning the act of a wealthy merchant giving orders to his driver. In reality the driver was his good friend Yuki, who was being deceptive himself about his reasons to being the one to join him here. He had a mission of his own inside the palace, but Teru knew better than to ask. Yuki's mission wouldn't interfere with his own, the clan never did accept missions that would conflict an existing one.

“I won't be too long, I'm going to stretch my legs around the town,” Teru informed Yuki, an excuse to look around the festival stalls that had been set up along the main street. Since their kingdom had swallowed up the neighbouring lands, the culture had become a mismatch of people and customs. He was of the old lands, samurai, geishas, and elegant kimonos. Here the fashion, like the people, was mixed with those from outside. He saw Parisians, from what had been Paristan, dressed in decorative military suits and elaborate dresses. Every one's hair worn higher than the last. They spoke to each other in a mixture of French, and the common tongue.

Then there were those from the old kingdom of Seoul, performing and dancing happy music on the stage, as a crowd of mostly women cheered them on. He saw fashion from Vania and stalls selling food from Ma'drid. It was all so wonderful to behold, but it was also chaos and that made the town dangerous. When there was order, he could learn the rules and stay in control. In chaos anything could happen.

Cautious of any threats, mainly from rival clans, he took a seat at a stand selling bowls of hot soups and stews. He might as well eat dinner while he was here, it would be foolish to waste such an opportunity. Besides it would make Yuki jealous, severed him right after what he did on their last mission together.

He made his order, and watched closely for any signs of his food being poisoned. It wasn't, so he ate the delicious stew with delight. He grew wary as a man sat nearby, clearly watching him. No clan member would ever be so obvious, so why was he being watched? Should he confront this man, or just walk away?

“Are you new to this town?” the man suddenly asked, friendly and kind. Teru almost felt guilty for being suspicious, almost.

“My butler and I are travelling to Kitou,” Teru replied. “I'm hoping to expand my business there.”

“A merchant?” the man asked, “What do you sell?”

“Traditional clothes, mainly women's kimono's,” Teru answered. They were light to carry, and it was easy to hide weapons among them, away from prying eyes. Any guard who tried to search them wasn't at all surprised when he freaked out about them damaging his expensive clothes.

“I'm sure the people of the capital will love such things,” the man reassured him, “Kimono's are so popular right now, apparently the Paristan fashions are so over, but truthfully they're my favourite of all.”

“Fashions come and go,” Teru reassured him. “Only the wealthy bother themselves about such things anyway.”

“Yes, that's true,” the stranger agreed, “We never did share names, did we? I'm Ryuu, and you are?”

“Teru,” he answered, on edge as he saw the man's familiar reaction to his name. He tried to hide it well, but this stranger seemed to already know who he was.

“I should go, my butler is waiting for my return,” he excused himself.

“Perhaps we'll meet soon?” the stranger suggested, “I'm travelling to the capital myself.”

“We will probably meet on the road,” Teru agreed, intent of making sure such an encounter would never happen. Until he knew who this man was, and what he wanted, he was going to avoid him.

 _But do you really want to avoid him?_ He found himself wondering. Ryuu had seemed so nice, the kind of man that he could easily find himself becoming friends with. In different circumstances, a different life maybe that would have been possible. In this life it would never happen, not if they both lived for a million years. A shinobi didn't make friends. A shinobi walked alone, accepting help only when it was required. He'd broken that rule the day he and Yuki had become close, an excusable error as they were from the same clan, but he wouldn't break the rule again. Ryuu meant nothing to him, unless he truly was a threat liker he had first feared.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

The city of Kitou was a vast away of traditional style buildings, spreading up the mountains without any signs of plans of being built there. They had simply built where people had pleased, making the city roads bend and twist around them. Often this lead to dead ends, or shops in the middle of residential blocks. Among these existing structures, newer building slipped through the gaps, each one in a style completely independent to any other. Many reflected the ancient buildings of other cultures; imposing white stone structures with great pillars like those found in Roma, black and white brick building like those from Londinium and houses built from wood like those found in Osslow, If the country had conquered their nation, you were sure the people had built homes here.

Among the seeming endless spread of buildings hung decorative banners and golden star decorations ready for the third night of the Sun, Moon and Stars Festival. When the sun set the whole town would be lit up with thousands of tiny golden lights, ironically blinding out the light of the real stars above. Teru had always found this festival ridiculous for this reason, but he couldn't help but admire the decorations none the less.

“What's this for?” Yuki whispered once they had reached their destination, an old deserted shop owned by the clan and their temporary base. The horses had been led to the stables to rest but the cart with all their merchandise still waited outside They would need to remove the merchandise quickly but first it seemed Yuki needed answers. Teru often forgot just how little Yuki knew about the countries traditions, having spent his childhood in one of the country's many principalities and then training within the heart of the clan lands. They had their own traditions, and whilst Yuki was well aware of them, it seemed he had never experienced the three night festival before.

“The Festival of the Sun, Moon and Stars,” Teru explained, “On the first night, at sunset, the city will be lit with large lights as bright as day. It's a festival for children and celebrating the good in the world. The next night is the festival of the moon, the lights are dimmed and the people celebrate love. Not just for people, but food, music or whatever is closest to their heart. They say if you propose to your lover on The Night of The Moon then your love will be eternal, but if the love isn't true it will lead to a disastrous end. The third night is for the stars. It's about respecting your elders and their wisdom. A night for creation, design and invention.”

“A night for drinking, and losing your senses?” Yuki hoped, smiling when Teru confirmed that this was correct. Their was nothing like a drunk city to make their job easy. “Well then, we should make sure we're prepared.”

 

The city was far larger than Teru was used to, and to his annoyance he had somehow lost Yuki in the crowds. He hoped the other shinobi had vanished on purpose, as otherwise he would have to wonder what had happened to his own senses. He was supposed to be aware of his surroundings at all times. It had to be that Yuki had intended this, it was the only explanation he could accept.

At least in their time together they had learned some valuable information on how to request an audience with the young lord, the guards surrounding the palace and even the name of the architect who had designed the building. Deyama was a well known builder, architect and a lesser known clan member. He wasn't from their clan, and had died over a century ago, but his buildings were legendary among all the clans as the easiest to move around due to the obsessive amount of hidden passageways and escape points. Some had been discovered over time, many more remained hidden, but it was safe to assume that if you knew where to look you would find them.

Perhaps their good luck, and no need to do anything that night, had sparked Teru to let down his guard. Either way he had found himself at a bar enjoying a rare alcoholic drink. They called the drink Stardust, but to Teru it tasted like gin and orange, perhaps that was all it was. Daigo, the bartender, had sworn their was a secret ingredient but he was yet to figure out what it was.

“Is it some other kind of orange, like a tangerine?” the woman beside him guessed. They'd been playing this game for around ten minutes now, neither of them having figured out the answer just yet.

“No,” Daigo replied, with a smile, “Come on, I'll give you both a free drink if you figure it out.”

“Something corny like love?” Teru muttered, freezing as he noticed Ryuu out of the corner of his eye. What was he doing here? Fool, of course he would attend this festival, he had already told him he was coming to the capital. It wasn't like he had forgotten him either, it had been impossible to erase the memory of his smile, he had just assumed in this large city it would be unlikely for them to cross paths.

“So, we meet again,” Ryuu said with a large grin. He took the seat besides Teru, and after learning about the challenge ordered his own Stardust. With just a sip he answered the challenge confidently, “Cinnamon.”

“Beginners luck!” Daigo complained, but he fulfilled his promise and gave all three of them a free drink. “I never thought anyone here would figure it out.”

“I know my way around a spice rack,” Ryuu answered easily, clearly not aware how strange this statement was. Spices were expensive, especially imported ones like Cinnamon. Who was he to have such experience? He wanted to question him, but before he could the woman knocked her drink all over herself and Ryuu was quickly by her side to help her clear the mess up. She'd done it on purpose, Teru thought suspiciously. To cover for Ryuu, or an act of seduction? Both answers infuriated him, especially the last. It was simply vulgar to fake an accident just to get someone's attention. It made him angry to think about, and another emotion he refused to admit. Not even to himself.

“I swear, I'm fine,” the woman pouted. “I don't need to change.”

“Don't be a fool,” Ryuu ordered, “You need to go and change your clothes right now. You're soaking wet and it's colder than you would think tonight.”

“Will you be here when I return?” she asked, confirming Teru's suspicions that she had faked the whole thing.

“Probably,” Ryuu answered. Silently they watched her go, and then Ryuu was getting up. “Do you want to look around the festival with me?”

“Aren't you waiting for her?” Teru asked, surprised that Ryuu would want to leave. Hadn't he been into her at all? She was pretty, and friendly enough.

“I can't stand her,” Ryuu confessed, “Throwing herself at me, like I'm a piece of meat or something? I hate women like that.”

“So do I,” Teru admitted, accepting Ryuu's offer despite his better intentions. Part of him simply wouldn't let him walk away from this mysterious man.

 

“Why are you here?” Teru found himself asking as they walked through the streets, “You never told me before.”

“This city is my home,” Ryuu answered. “I was simply visiting a few other towns.”

“I see,” Teru replied. This man knew the taste of expensive spices, had the luxury of travelling for fun and perfect manners. He may be pretending, but he was no commoner. Like a jigsaw the pieces began to slip into place, the blond hair, the easy offer of friendship and the smile. He'd been so stupid, it was a change of a single letter. “You've got better, but you're still terrible at playing pretend.”

“What?” Ryuu asked, understanding crossing the face, “You are that Teru, the boy with the swing?”

“The very same,” Teru replied, pleased his guess had paid off. His smile hadn't changed at all, no wonder he couldn't get it out of his mind. Surely his subconscious had been trying to tell him the whole time that he knew this man. That had to be it, what other reason would there have been for him to remember this man so clearly? It explained the way the blond had watched him too, he'd recognised him but couldn't remember where. “It's been two decades, but I knew I remembered that smile.”

“You looked familiar,” the lord admitted, “Your eyes are so intense, and that silver hair is far from common.”

“Why do you do this?” Teru asked, allowing the other man to lead him into an empty side street, “Pretend to be a commoner, you're clearly not. What commoner instantly recognises the taste of cinnamon?”

“Everyone loves me,” came the answer, his tone carrying hints of sadness, “Not because they care for me, but because of who I am. I walk among the common people to learn about myself, and those I now rule. I became the Lord Kamijo two summers past, but I've yet to figure out if I'm any good at it. At very least things seem to be the same. Perhaps that's all the influence of our Queen.”

“Where do you rule over?” Teru found himself asking. “You said you lived in the city, don't the royal family rule here?”

“Yes and no,” came the answer, “The first King had two brothers who he granted Lordship over the East and West halves of the city. My family are the descendants of the younger brother, they called him the Rose as he much preferred flowers to ruling his own people. My family has great wealth and power, but very little responsibility. We're no better than he was.”

“Many would kill for such a position,” Teru admitted, “But not me. It sounds frightfully boring.”

“Oh it is,” the lord confessed, obviously relieved that Teru got it, “So I come here and try my best to understand what's going on. I tell myself it's for the good of the city, in reality I'm probably just being nosy. Perhaps now you're here, we could spend some more time together?”

“You want to spend time with me?” Teru asked, really this whole mission was far too easy. He'd suspect a trap, had he not seem so genuine.”

“Well at very least, I'd love you to come to the palace and show me your clothes.” he answered, “I'm not interested in kimonos at all, but I know plenty of people who are. I should buy a couple for official events at very least, seeing as they're now in fashion and everything. You'll have to call me Lord Kamijo there, but when it's just us Kamijo is fine.”

“And if I see you in town like this, it's Ryuu?” Teru guessed. “Never Yuuji?”

“I no longer use that name,” Kamijo answered, bitterness in his voice, “That's the name of an innocent boy, he no longer exists.”

“I'm not so sure,” Teru answered, “You still seem perfectly convinced that someone you barely know, is already your friend.”

“Let's just say it's wishful thinking,” Kamijo suggested, glancing back towards the street as the people began to flood towards an open park area. “They're letting of the fireworks soon, come on, I know the best spot.”

 

Teru was glad that he had trained for endurance, as the flights of steps up to the roof top would have been enough to defeat a lesser trained man. Beside him Kamijo was still catching his breath, making Teru suspect he often skipped his weapons training. That would make things easier, if an assassination order was given. He silently hoped that it wouldn't come, despite himself he was finding himself liking this man. If it did, he would do his duty. His honour and position among the clan mattered to him above all else.

“This building hasn't been used for years, I wouldn't lean against the safety rails,” Kamijo warned as they moved nearer the edge. Despite the warning the flat roof seemed safe enough, so he sat beside Kamijo, dangling his legs over the side. It was nice up here, if a little a cold. Beside him Kamijo moved over, sharing his body heat as they sat shoulder to shoulder. He hated being touched, but somehow when it was Kamijo it felt all right.

“Do you want one?” Kamijo asked as he pulled a paper bag containing white balls, around the size of marbles. His favourite mints, Teru released, he always made sure to have enough money to afford a few of these expensive treats every now and again.

“Thank you,” he said, accepting the sweet and staring out over the city where the fireworks were beginning to be set off. They filled the sky in a serious of coloured pattens, marking the end of the Festival of the Sun, Moon and Stars.

“I will learn to understand my people,” Kamijo swore into the night. It was traditional to pledge your desire to learn on this night, your aim for the next year so that each festival you would arrive smarter than you had at the last. Teru had already silently sworn to find information on the missing Masaya, but as Kamijo turned to wait for his pledge he realised he was going to have to say something out loud.

“I swear I'll learn all about my not so new friend,” Teru promised, guilty when Kamijo gave him a dazzling smile. Learning all about him, could very much lead to Kamijo's death. Such things had never bothered him before, why now? Greedily he made a third wish into the night, he would learn what it was that made Kamijo so different to every other mark he had ever had.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Teru could tell that Yuki didn't believe that he could just walk straight into the palace, but the moment he had introduced himself a butler was leading him into the west wing, a mansion all on it's own. Like the kingdom the palace had been split into three parts, a grand central structure for the royal family and two side wings for the two lords and their families. He had spotted the East Lord as they had walked through the front courtyard, an imposing black haired man who watched him with perhaps a little too much interest. The Lord Masashi seemed to share more resemblance to the original people of the realm than Kamijo, but he was still unmistakably a lord.

The traditional architecture in the main hallway quickly gave way to halls decorated with art, along every golden trimmed wall. He barely recognised half the subject matter, but as he walked he saw pictures of ancient gods, animals and depictions of historic events. He could spend a whole day in this hall, but he doubted he would ever get the chance.

The butler opened a door into a large conservatory and ordered for him to wait. It was a chance for him to look around, the room far lighter than the hallway as along three walls were huge windows looking out over the gardens beyond. White curtains framed the sides, resting against the palest blue walls. Everywhere was decorated with gold, or silver, trim and from the ceiling, painted with yet more art, was a crystal chandelier. It was this chandelier he was starting at when the lord arrived.

“This place is beautiful,” Teru remarked as he turned to face the perfectly neutral expression Kamijo was wearing. Having seen him so happy and carefree the night before, it was unsettling to see him act with such perfect diplomacy. He'd been too friendly, he corrected himself as the red haired woman at Kamijo's side gave him a surprised look. “Lord Kamijo.” he finished with a quick bow.

“This is Lady Caroline, my betrothed,” Kamijo introduced the lady, his expression sharing nothing of how he felt about this arrangement. Teru quickly bowed to her, calculating Kamijo's reaction critically as he was trained to do. He didn't want to marry her, or at least didn't care either way, there had been no need to hide happiness if he had felt it. As they talked business Kamijo barely looked at her, which was for the best as the Lady was rolling her eyes whenever Kamijo made a suggestion she didn't like.

“Kamijo dear, really you need to get with the times,” she scolded as she took a black and violet kimono away from her fiancée. “This low neck cut hasn't been fashionable, well ever.”

“I like it,” Kamijo scolded her, “If I must dress this way then that's my right.”

“A man of your standing must set the standard,” Caroline corrected, glaring at Teru as an obvious demand for him to agree with her.

“White and gold are the colours of this season,” Teru prompted, mimicking what he'd heard Caroline say early. If she remembered saying this, she didn't let on, but Kamijo smirked when she wasn't looking. He knew perfectly well that Teru had been mocking her.

“Why don't you pick something out for me, dear,” Kamijo suggested, “Whilst Teru and I speak business.”

“You think I can't do business because I'm a woman?” Caroline demanded angrily, “You men are all the same.”

“That's not what I was implying at all,” Kamijo reassured her, “Just I thought you liked looking at the clothes?”

“Go discuss your business,” Caroline replied, turning her back on Kamijo as she spoke. She seemed defeated by the encounter, forced to continue in a role she despised. If Kamijo was neutral towards their engagement, she hated it with every fibre of her being. It was easy to label her stuck up and vain, but Teru saw more beneath the surface. A strong woman, broken by the expectations forced upon her. The strain had been too much for her, the same pressure he could see was resting on Kamijo's shoulders as well. He almost liked her, she had at least been treating him with respect and kindness.

“You're welcome to join us,” Kamijo suggested. Caroline blanked him, continuing to admire the clothes with statements clearly mocking those girls that thought nothing much at all. Yes, Teru could like this woman, if he allowed himself to.

 

Yuki had followed his instructions without issue, and was now sat patiently in a bedroom on the opposite wing of the palace. Elegantly he crossed one leg on top of the other, sat back and relaxed. He had no idea how long he had to wait like this, but he knew how to be patient.

His gaze never shifted from the door, he'd already taken the time to look around the room and found nothing to be concerned about. The simple but elegant decoration was tastefully done, showing wealth without flaunting it as Kamijo's did. Traditional styles was mixed with art and artefacts from the newer lands, reminding Yuki of the history of this particular family. Many of the legendary samurai had grown up in this home, strong and proud. The rooms owner was no different, for Yuki had found his sword in this very room.

The door before him opened, but he didn't move. He was welcome here, why should he run? The man before him was clearly no servant, he was the warrior who owned this room, a man Yuki realised he had met before.

“Why Masashi,” Yuki teased, “I thought you were above killing?”

“Don't mock me,” Masashi complained, sitting on the edge of his bed and waiting for Yuki's smile to fade. It had been four years since they had last met, but the other was clearly bothered by what he had ordered done. “I still remember his face, every night when I sleep. I feel guilt sometimes, other times I am happy that I got my revenge. How do you live with what you did?”

“I'm a sword with a heart,” Yuki replied, “But no conscience it seems. He was a wicked man, his death was quicker than he deserved.”

“Perhaps,” Masashi replied, lost in the painful memories, “Or perhaps you feel nothing, because you did nothing but follow orders. A machine can't help but follow it's programming, in much the same way a shinobi acts in the exact way he was told. You haven't changed, the years barely touched you.”

“The problem with you, is I can never tell if you mean to compliment or insult me,” Yuki complained, “Are you going to name your target, or should I guess?”

“Kamijo,” Masashi said, surprising Yuki who knew just how close the two lords were. Like brothers even, though in reality they were distant kin, “Is he safe?”

“He's a lord,” Yuki replied with a shrug. Everyone knew that a lord must always watch his back.

“I saw your friend in the courtyard with him,” Masashi prompted, “So I repeat, is he safe?”

“Teru's just a merchant,” Yuki replied, a well practised liar. “Kamijo should fear for his money perhaps, but I heard he was one of the richest lords so perhaps not?”

“Fifty-four active members,” Masashi listed, “Twelve on missions right now. Out of the handful expected to lead one day only two names are mentioned, his and yours. So I repeat, is Kamijo safe?”

“What?” Yuki demanded, his smile fading in an instance. There was no way Masashi could know all this, unless there was a spy among his own people. This was more than just numbers, Masashi had recognised Teru by sight which meant he must have some form of picture of his friend. Probably all the clan, if his spy was this thorough. He didn't know Teru's mission though, which meant the spy hadn't infiltrated the council, just the village.

“Not so cocky now,” Masashi teased, frowning as he saw Yuki reach for his blade, “There's no need to draw weapons, I use the information only to protect those I care about. Kamijo, is he save.”

“There is no conflicting orders, but I don't know what his are,” Yuki relented, his hand still wrapping firmly around the hilt of his blade. “When he gets an order to kill, he grows quiet and serious, he's not being acting that way so I would assume that Kamijo is safe. For now at least.”

“It might not even be Kamijo he's after,” Masashi said, obviously trying to reassure himself, “If I asked you to find out what he's up to, and report to me, would that be conflicting orders?”

“Yes,” Yuki replied, “Clan first, mission second. I'm not even sorry. I'd rip out the throat of everyone here if it meant keeping Teru safe.”

“Then I can only pray, and do my best to keep him safe,” Masashi concluded, “Relax, I won't do anything just yet. You're sure he's not here to kill?”

“As close as I can be,” Yuki replied. He wasn't at all happy with this new discovery, but until he had spoken to Teru it was best not to act.

“Then I suppose we should continue this meeting as I planned,” Masashi relented, his features hardening with sadness as he explained to Yuki why he had hired him.

 

Teru glanced over at the door as the red haired man came in, and wasn't entirely sure what to make of him. His expression was cold, but not hostile and his features softened when he looked at Caroline. She was clearly his sister, the family resemblance was striking. So beautiful, Teru found himself thinking as his eyes swept over his creamy white skin. He caught himself looking and returned his attention back to Caroline, she was the one he should have been admiring. A perfect shinobi would admire no one at all.

“I didn't know you were coming,” Kamijo casually remarked. He seemed resigned to a fight that might not happen. Perhaps they had been arguing earlier, it explained why they were both acting so emotionless towards each other.

“Somebody has to help Caroline, you're useless at such things,” the man scolded, his words lacking the teasing tone that Caroline's had when she accused Kamijo of the same thing.

“By your logic I'm useless at many things,” Kamijo muttered, “This is Machi, he's Caroline's brother but you had probably figured that one out.”

“There's a striking resemblance,” Teru admitted, relieved when Machi smiled at him. Whatever was going on between him and Kamijo was clearly not a true indicate to his usual behaviour.

“So people keep telling me, I don't see it,” Machi confessed. “Is it all right if I look through these kimonos? They're truly beautiful, especially that red one. What do you think Cara?”

“With my red hair?” Caroline teased, “That's a little too striking for my taste.”

“I don't know,” Machi said as he picked up the garment, “It's like fire, beautiful and dangerous to behold. You should buy it, for someone here if not my dear sister.”

“Who here needs a kimono, and can't afford one of their own?” Kamijo demanded, “It seems rather reckless to me.”

“You're always afraid of being burnt,” Machi challenged, “Live a little.”

“Don't judge me for being cautious,” Kamijo scolded, the argument seemingly to be about more than just clothes, “Fire is dangerous, only a fool would think otherwise.”

“Is that so?” Machi demanded, hands on his hips and a pout on his lips, “Be like that then, Cara when you're done I'll be in my rooms.”

“I'm sorry, my brother always seems to find a way to cause a scene,” Caroline apologised, “I can't think why he'd want Kamijo to buy a kimono for any woman other than myself. He's the one who suggested the match to father! Now he tries to sabotage it?”

“That's not it at all,” Kamijo reassured her, “He's just referencing an earlier argument. Teru, add the red kimono to my bill. Perhaps he'll accept it as a peace agreement.”

“He wants it?” Caroline asked, “Whatever for? Is he seducing some woman I don't know off? Why would you pay for it?”

“I accidentally damaged something of his,” Kamijo confessed. A lie, Teru thought as he noticed the way Kamijo was avoiding eye contact. Why would he lie about something like this? The whole situation seemed so trivial. Caroline broke the tension by showing Teru the three kimonos she wanted for herself, and one for Kamijo who had begrudgingly agreed he'd try wearing one. At least once.

They were bartering the price when Masashi entered the room. It seemed he had free reign of both wings and probably the palace as well. The same family, Teru remembered, no matter how distance the relatives had become they were as close as they had ever been.

“You must be done here by now?” Masashi asked, ignoring Teru completely and barely giving Caroline a smile. “I need your help with something.”

“I think we are done,” Kamijo replied, “Is it urgent? I was thinking I could ask Teru to join me for lunch?”

“I'm afraid it is,” Masashi apologised, “And Caroline, Machi is waiting for you. He seems in a bad mood and we all know you're the only one who can calm his temper.”  
“He's a spoilt brat,” Caroline muttered, giving Kamijo a quick kiss on the cheek before she hurried out of the room to face her brother.

“You should go,” Masashi ordered, glaring at Teru without pretence of kindness.

“I suppose so,” Teru admitted as he began to pack away all the kimonos except for those Kamijo was purchasing. Masashi despised him, he thought without surprise. Lords and samurai were all the same, scorning everyone they believed to be beneath them. He reminded himself he hated them, that their opinions meant nothing to him. They could rot in hell for all he cared. All of them, except maybe Kamijo. Somehow he was different.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Yuki was waiting outside the palace for Teru, he said nothing but it was clear something was wrong. He wasn't supposed to be here, but Teru carried out the pretence of meeting his butler and reloading the vast wooden trunk onto the back of the cart. Slipping inside he watched silently as Yuki used his hands to spell out the words 'We need to talk'.

Whatever Yuki needed to warn him about must be bad, as he gave nothing else away. Could their mission be in jeopardy already? Surely Yuki wasn't that stupid he thought, angrily watching him as he played over the idea in his mind.

They left the driver to take the trunk into the shop, unhitching the two horses themselves and placing saddles on their backs, and reins over the horses heads. No words were needed as they rode out of town, reaching a fast gallop as they travelled over open fields. Unlike some samurai they avoided the farms, until even they lay in the far distance. Even then Yuki began to pace the ground, tapping every so often as he checked their were no hollow spaces below.

“You broke our cover,” Teru accused, keeping his tone even for the sake of the horses.

“He already knew,” Yuki complained, quickly explaining his encounter with Masashi. “There's a spy in our very own village.”

“And you trust the spy isn't me?” Teru asked, “Of course you do. I will be the elder one day.”

“On the council at least, I'll be the elder,” Yuki challenged. Usually Teru would argue with him, but he was too worried by the news to worry about being rivals. “That is if the spy doesn't destroy everything!”

“I'll send a message to my father,” Teru offered, “We can trust him.”

“To abort both of our missions,” Yuki agreed, “We can't tell him Teru, not yet. Besides, the spy will hardly do anything until they know their cover is blown. I've been thinking about this, while I waited for you. What may be best is to carry on as usual. I'm employed by Masashi anyway.”

“Well, good for you,” Teru muttered. “This helps me how?”

“It doesn't,” Yuki confessed, “But as long as you're no threat to Kamijo, he'll leave you alone.”

“I highly doubt that,” Teru replied. “It's crazy for us to go on like this. Ignore everything and continue as normal? Is that really your plan?”

“Naturally,” Yuki replied. “What's the matter, are you scared?”

“Of Masashi?” Teru scoffed, “What's the point? We're either dead or he lacks a back bone. Last time I checked, we were alive.”

“You're too quick to judge him,” Yuki scolded. “Masashi is stronger than you know, but I know him, how he works. It's not a lack of courage that makes him hesitate to draw steel. He believes that confronting me will be enough to protect those he loves, without angering the clan. A warrior and a diplomat, with a conscience no less.”  
“You speak highly of him?” Teru remarked, but Yuki seemed resistant to explain why that was.

“I respect him,” Yuki answered with a shrug, “He has the strength to act when necessary. Warn me if your orders are to eliminate Kamijo, or a member of his house hold. I plan to be far from the palace if it happen.”

 

Teru was still feeling on edge when they returned to the city, not sure who he should trust. Yuki had always had his back, in his own way, but he couldn't help but be suspicious. The way Yuki spoke of Masashi suggested more than a working relationship, an old friendship perhaps? He hated to mistrust his friend, but he had been trained to rely only on himself.

He did his best to avoid Yuki for the rest of the day, searching for unofficial entrances into the palace and finding one pretty quickly. Thank Deyama, he thought as he slipped inside the passageway and made his way back into the palace. As the last place Masaya had been seen, it was more than likely somebody inside knew where he was. He's also heard many rumours around town, of other young men who had vanished inside the palace walls.

He made the way quickly through the secret corridor, not bothering to cover his tracks. It seemed he wasn't the only one who had found this particular passageway. Really from the variety of footprints found here you would think he was on a public highway! He shouldn't be too surprised, it was clear that Masashi was well aware of at least one passageway into his room. How many of these hideaways had the lords and royal family already found?

He slipped around a corner, and smiled as he noticed a hidden notch in the wall. This way was likely unspotted, at least until now. He climbed quickly, crawling into a tunnel filled with undisturbed dust.

He felt the change of warmth as he slipped around a corner, and knew this surely meant he was inside the palace. Perhaps the ceiling of the ground floor, he wondered, correcting himself as he realised he must be on the floor above. Sure enough the first small crack he found gave him the view of a bedroom where a servant was busy making the bed. It was late afternoon he thought, with more than a little distaste. What kind of person got up so late? Unless they had brought someone here, he thought blushing. The joys of the flesh had always been something he found made him feel uneasy. It made him miss obvious jokes, something Yuki frequently teased him over. As if the other shinobi had ever had a woman of his own!

He was to harsh on his friend, he thought as he moved further into the palace. He knew why, putting Yuki down made him feel better about himself. Nobody else in the village was even competition, with Yuki he had met his match. He had to beat him, for his families honour if nothing else.

His thoughts were broken when he heard two women talking below. He remained frozen, listening to them discuss what to wear for Masashi's masquerade ball on the coming Friday. Pleased with this information he turned to head back. He had reached a dead end, at least when it came to this tunnel, but there had been a few other branches to explore.

 

Yuki walked into the ballroom, well hidden beneath the decorative mask he wore. He had an invite, so entry had been easy, but he didn't want to be recognised. Slowly he made his way around the room, looking for the man who wasn't going to make it through the night.

Beside him a dark haired man slipped by, Masashi ,Yuki thought as the masked man grabbed his hand and pulled him behind a large curtain. Training and duty ordered him to protest, but his weakness for Masashi stole his senses and he found himself smiling as the other man closed the gap between them.

“You're not the man I'm looking for,” Yuki complained, wrapping his arms around Masashi. Dangerous! His mind screamed at him. Masashi was a loose cannon that could easily destroy his clan, starting with Teru he was sure. Only he couldn't deny the old memories were flooding back as he breathed in the other's scent. He hadn't changed in all these years, and neither had their attraction for each other.

“He can wait,” Masashi complained, “I missed you.”

“Why?” Yuki demanded, “I'm an emotionless automaton, you said so yourself.”

“I didn't mean it,” Masashi protested, “Or maybe I did. Why do you have to be so cold?”

“You're drunk,” Yuki realised, pushing Masashi away, “If you were sober you'd know we can never return to what we once had.”

“Did you ever miss me?” Masashi asked, accepting Yuki's accusation and leaning back against the window behind them. “You stole two hearts that night you know, somehow I carried on.”

“I was young and stupid,” Yuki protested, “I risked my family when we got involved. We can never be together.”

“Some samurai had men like you, loyally serving them,” Masashi complained.

“Wicked men,” Yuki corrected, “Paranoid men, or those broken by war. Which one would you be, to keep me here?”

“You know the answer,” Masashi replied, sadness intensifying in his expression. “I'm none of them, or I hope I'm not anyway.”

“I did love you, once,” Yuki admitted, quickly returning to the ballroom. Had he stayed he knew he would have done something incredibly stupid. Proving Teru's mistrust in him to be well founded. Every shinobi had a weakness, and Masashi was still clearly his. If only the other hadn't gotten drunk! It had been so much easier last time they had met, when they were both carefully guarded.

 

Without an invite Teru had gotten into the ballroom the hard way, through Masashi's bedroom. Yuki had showed him the passageway, perhaps in a display of trust, but he had been nervous as he slipped into the bedroom. Part of him still expected a trap, even now he was in the main ballroom.

He recognised Yuki by his clothes, frowning as he slipped behind a large curtain with another man. If Yuki was going to kill tonight he hoped it wouldn't be so soon. He needed to get information, and finding a dead body would certainly end the nights celebrations early.

A masked blond man asked him to dance, and he nodded his approval, glad the music was so loud. He had gone as a blond woman tonight, knowing that Masashi would be searching for him. He hoped his disguise was good enough, though it had fooled many men before.

“Where did a beautiful young lady like you come from?” the man asked, the scent of alcohol on his breath making the otherwise handsome man unpleasant.

“Why, from the fairy kingdom of course,” Teru teased. Careful to disguise his voice.

“The fairy kingdom?” the man teased, “Well it must be a wonderful place, if that is truly your home.”

“The kind of place men often vanish to,” Teru agreed, “For when they visit they never want to return.”

“Is that so?” the man asked, clearly knowing nothing of the disappearances in the town. Across the room Yuki returned to the room, shortly followed by the other man. Not a kill, so that man was most likely Masashi, Teru noted.

He accepted the offer of a dark haired man after the song came to an end, knowing the blond wasn't too happy to be abandoned. He had a job to do, and didn't want to be caught up with a man who knew nothing of interest.

He repeated his story to this man, getting recognition this time. This man knew of a man who had vanished, but nothing more than those in the town. Continuing polite conversation Teru finished the dance, slipping into the arms of another man at the end of the song and repeating his story yet again.

He noticed Kamijo enter straight away, for he wore a glass mask that hid very little at all. Beside him was two red haired women, Caroline and Machi! He had to double check, but that was definitely him. So, that's why he wanted the red kimono, Teru thought. Not for some woman, or the repayment of a debt, but for himself.

He danced on, slipping through the arms of a black haired man, an older man with greying hair, and two men with chocolate brown hair before finding himself in the arms of a very familiar blond.

“Why Lord Kamijo, shouldn't you be dancing with your future wife?” Teru teased.

“I like to work my way around a room,” Kamijo answered, a wicked glint in his eyes, “Especially when I spot beautiful men like you.”

“You see right through my disguise?” Teru teased, his heart racing in shock. Not one man here had thought anything was odd, Kamijo had figured everything out in a moment.

“I'd always recognise you,” Kamijo answered, “You're like silver in a room filled with steel.”

“Steel, and a ruby,” Teru corrected, “He's playing a dangerous game tonight.”

“As are you,” Kamijo reminded him. “There's no need to worry. I'll hold you safely in my arms all night, if you would allow me to?”

“You'll have to keep me entertained,” Teru warned, selfishly pushing his mission to one side. He wanted to dance with Kamijo tonight, finding out the mystery of the disappearing men could wait.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Yuki was surprised to see Teru on the dance floor, wrapped in Kamijo's arms. Once again he found himself wondering what the other's mission actually was. He knew Kamijo was a large part of it, simply by observation, but Teru wouldn't say much at all. If he went for the Lord they'd both be in trouble, but the scene before him helped him relax a little. It was unlikely that Teru would allow himself to get so close to a target and besides, his easy going attitude lately was proof he was here under surveillance. That or to steal something precious, though such missions were rare.

Sensing Masashi's eyes on him, and not wanting to be tempted by anything he had to offer, he slipped through the crowd and out of the ball room. He acted like a drunk looking to relieve himself until out of sight of the guards, before growing deadly serious. The blade pressing against his calf was there for a reason, he had an objective to complete.

Hearing footsteps he slipped into the library and hid within the bookshelves. Nobody should come in here tonight, but to his surprise he wasn't alone. A couple looking for privacy? He caught the sight of a man and a woman as he slipped into the darkest shadows.

“Have you got it?” the man demanded. He sounded angry but the woman didn't flinch. If she had Yuki knew he would struggle to stay calm. He detested men who used their strength to intimidate women and had met many over his lifetime. Every time he had ended the violence. Every time, except one.

'Don't think about it,' Yuki reminded himself as he watched the woman pull a small package out of her cleavage. It remained unwrapped, the man slipping it straight into his pocket without a glance. He trusted this woman, Yuki realised, though he didn't like her.

“It's about time,” the man complained, flipping a strand of long black hair away from his eyes only to have it fall straight back where it had started. Objectively he was handsome, Yuki decided, a poor reflection of Masashi's good looks though they were clearly not related. The scar on his cheek seemed to add to the rugged look, not distract from it, but the scowl he wore made him look rather ugly.

In comparison the woman was rather plain to look at, pretty in the way she wore her hair and make-up, opposed to any natural gifts. She had made a lot of very little, and Yuki respected her for it. Even more so, he respected her for standing up to this thug of a man.

“Well if you hadn't lost your original, I wouldn't have had to come here at all,” she scolded. “Really I should report you.”

“But you won't,” the man finished for her. The tension building between them before she finally gave him a sly smile.

“No, I won't,” she agreed. “It's far more fun watching you burn yourself out.”

 

Teru was having the time of his life as he danced dance after dance with the lord. Many men and women tried to separate them, but Kamijo never allowed it, with the one exception of his own fiancée. It was unheard of for a lord to ignore his betrothed he had explained, though he was quick to return to Teru's side.

Teru had learnt a lot about the lord in this time, as well as plenty of gossip, the most interesting being about Machi. Apparently he had been dressing as a woman for a long time, but had used this chance to come out in public despite Kamijo's warnings. Naturally his sister had identified him straight away, but had accepted the story that this was some kind of prank.

“I have a confession to make,” Kamijo whispered into Teru's ear.

“What is it?” Teru asked, curiosity and the desire to learn anything that might help his mission urging his to encourage the lord to talk.

“Not here,” he warned, taking Teru's hand and leading him behind the very curtain Yuki and Masashi had been hiding behind before.

“So secretive?” Teru teased, “Why must we hide away?”

“Who wants prying eyes?” Kamijo replied, “Can you guess what my secret is?”

“I suspect a man of your standing has many,” Teru replied.

“That's true, I must admit,” Kamijo replied, “But this one answers the question of why I have been dancing with you all night.”

“You appreciate my artistic beauty?” Teru asked, his eyes widening as Kamijo's lips met his. He was a fool! How had he not noticed what had been going on all night? Love, relationships, romance were as alien to him as what lay beyond the stars. He knew men could like men as well, or instead of, woman, but not how that effected him. “You kissed me!”

“How could I resist?” Kamijo teased, his playfulness fading as he saw Teru's expression. “I'm sorry, I thought... well I though5 wrong. Forgive me?”

“You took me by surprise,” Teru relented, gently placing a kiss on Kamijo's cheek. “However it takes more than a few dances to seduce a man like me.”

“Is that so?” Kamijo asked, “Perhaps tomorrow, well you may just find Ryuu visiting your shop.”

“I prefer Ryuu, he's far less forward,” Teru retorted. “To kiss me like that! Tell me, do the men always fall so easily for your charms?”

“Always,” Kamijo confessed, “They find it hard to resist a lord.”

“Yes. well,” Teru began to protest, freezing as a bell began to chime. “What's that?”

“It's time for the unmasking,” Kamijo explained. Already? Teru thought alarmed. Luckily the window was large and not far from the ground. He'd be out of here in a heartbeat. Sensing his intentions Kamijo took his hand firmly in his own. “Before you run away, have I ruined our friendship with my actions just now? I didn't mean to offend you.”

“I'm not offended,” Teru replied, slipping his hand out of the glove he wore and escaping Kamijo's grasp. “Just a lot harder to catch.” With that he left through the window, his heart racing in his chest. The kiss had been the best moment of his life, he decided as he slipped into the shadows of the garden below. Perhaps he wasn't as immune to love as he had once thought. Stealing a glance back at the window he watched Kamijo staring into the garden, clearly looking for him. He still held Teru's glove in his hand, pressed close to his heart as if the garment was part of Teru himself, and not just what he had once worn. The lord turned and slipped back into the grand hall, his expression before he did unreadable. If Teru had to guess he'd say the expression had been wishful, but of what he wasn't sure.

 

Finding the hidden passageway in the library had been a stroke of luck, that had come at just the right time. Yuki had been moments away from being caught when he had entered the narrow space between the walls, the shadows perhaps not hiding him quite as well as he had liked. He hadn't been followed, so he had explored the palace at will until he accidentally found the man he had been searching for all along.

He waited for a couple of minutes, mentally checking every feature to that in the photograph he had been given. Photos were still new, as technology went, but they were already proving to be far more useful than paintings for capturing a man's likeness.

It was hard to believe that this ordinary man could have committed the crimes Masashi had listed, but he believed the lord's words. This was a kill that needed to be done, the easiest kind. Still he waited, letting the man walk into what must be a bathroom before dropping into the room. He vanished in the shadow of a large wardrobe, eyes shut as not to reflect the light. Unless the man actually truly looked for him, he wouldn't be seen. As expected the man wasn't looking for intruders, and got into his bed after turning of the lights. Less than a minute later, he was dead, another job done.

“No!” a man's voice gasped, startling Yuki who had been sure he was alone. Another shinobi was in the room, the man's protector perhaps? The shinobi had failed, but that didn't stop the shurikan hitting him in his upper arm.

“You failed,” Yuki mocked, “To save him and to stop me.” He dropped the smoke bomb and hurried into the passageway he had entered by. The art of invisibility, but the rival shinobi would know the trick and likely where the passageway opened into the room.

He crawled quickly, ignoring the pain in his right arm, and dropped into the library with barely a glance if anyone was around. He couldn't hide this wound, even if he did have time to slip back into the outfit he had worn over the black one he wore now. He could run, but his arm was bleeding heavier than he would have liked. Hiding wasn't an option either, it would take time and he needed to bandage his arm fast.

He ran like the wind, startling a palace guard who perhaps would at least prevent him from being followed. Desperately he flung over Masashi's bedroom doors, not entirely sure why his subconscious had decided this was the best place for him to seek safety.

“The guards saw me,” Yuki got out in a desperate rush, barely having chance to admire Masashi in his half dressed state. He must have been getting ready for bed as well, meaning the ball was officially over.

“Get in the bathroom,” Masashi ordered, “This will be the first place the guards come to.”

“I'm sorry,” Yuki apologised, slipping into the other room feeling nothing but shame. He'd messed up his mission, for the first time in... well since he was a kid in training. It had to be Masashi's mission too, the one mission he really wanted to do well.

Forcing his emotions into check he pulled off the black hood, just in case Masashi failed to stop the guards coming in here. He could hear one in Masashi's room right now, explaining the situation to the Lord. His attention though was on the shurikan in his arm, it had to go. With gritted teeth he yanked the metal out of the wound, gasping out loud as he did so.

“Is someone in there?” the guard asked, “I heard a noise.”

“I have a guest,” Masashi answered.

“You do?” the guard asked, catching himself, “I mean, off course you do.”

“Double the security in all three residences, and the town,” Masashi ordered. “I want a full inspection of my home, and tell the royal security and those of Lord Kamijo's to do the same.”

“Yes my Lord,” the guard agreed, hurrying out of the room to carry out the orders. By this time Yuki had pulled off his shirt and was using it to hold back the blood from his wound. It had cut deep, but he didn't think it was that serious. Unless the weapon was poisoned of course, but he'd know soon if that was the case and Teru would most likely be able to bring him the cure.

Teru, he'd mock him once he heard this had happened, Yuki thought bitterly. He was never going to hear the end of this, the mission that made Teru elder of the clan. Who would vote for him now?

“What happened?” Masashi demanded, his tone even as he filled the doorway and prevented any attempts of escape. He was still drunk, Yuki noted, but not enough to be out of his mind. Sober enough to talk rationally, he decided as he sat on the edge of the bath.

“I did what you asked,” Yuki explained, “But there was another shinobi in the room.”

“Teru?” Masashi asked.

“Of course not!” Yuki exclaimed. “He would never attack me, and his mission wouldn't conflict with mine.”

“He's your rival,” Masashi noted, “And whoever threw that at you only hit your arm. Enough to mess up your mission, not enough to do serious damage.”

“Teru wouldn't!” Yuki repeated himself, “Beside this man was larger and I would have recognised Teru's voice, even when disguised. Another clan is here, protecting that monster of a man.”

“Is that so?” Masashi asked, sounding more surprised than mistrusting. Meekly Yuki nodded, his strength failing him as the adrenalin burnt it's way out of his system. It was a relief when Masashi asked no more questions, silently helping him bandage up his wound and then into his bed. Had Masashi tried anything now, Yuki wasn't sure he could push him off, but the Lord didn't press his advantage.

“If I ordered you to investigate this matter, would it conflict with your orders?” Masashi asked.

“No,” Yuki admitted, “Other clans are seen as our enemies, until proven otherwise. Would you really hire me again? I messed everything up for you.”

“You did the job I hired you to do,” Masashi corrected, “Now I'm hiring you for another, unless you don't want to stay around?”

“No I want to,” Yuki reassured him, “If anyone is going to take down the man who did this to me, well it would have to be me.”

“I see,” Masashi replied, silently watching Yuki for a moment. Looking for a sign that he was here for him? It seemed likely, but Yuki couldn't falter again. He had to stay strong and rebuild his reputation, that was the only reason why he remained. Perhaps to support Teru as well, but certainly not for this beautiful, dangerous Lord.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

Yuki woke and contemplated slitting Masashi's throat right there. It would be easy, his knife was still strapped to his leg and the other man was still asleep. One quick cut and the witness of his embarrassment would be gone. The one person who knew it had been him who had messed up. A simple end to all his problems.

He couldn't do it. Not for lack of training, or lack of nerve, but lack of resolve. He liked Masashi, no _liked_ didn't give his feelings justice. He loved him. Another reason why Masashi should be dead. The commotion of a guard entering the room woke the lord up in an instance and ended Yuki's dark thoughts.

“This had better be life or death,” Masashi complained, his displeasure fading as he noticed Yuki lying beside him. “What time is it anyway?”

“Just after seven,” the guard apologised, “And I'm afraid it is a matter of life and death. They found a body.”

“Give me a minute to get dressed,” Masashi ordered. The guard nodded, gave Yuki a curious glance and left. Yuki was rarely around for this part and didn't know how to react. He didn't have to know, for Masashi left the room quickly to feign surprise at the guards discovery. His handiwork, why had nobody reported it sooner? The other shinobi isn't supposed to be in the palace, he concluded as he slipped out of the bed himself. That ruled out a few people, but not many.

He entered the bathroom and washed up, spending more time cleaning his knife than himself. It was unlike him to leave a bloody weapon on his person, but he had been too weak last night to do much at all. If Masashi hadn't helped him, he might as well have been dead. The shurikan that had hit him still lay in the sink, imprinted with the image of a hawk. The symbol was familiar, but he couldn't place it.

Giving up on his new mission for now he cleaned and re-bandaged his wound and went back to the bed. The exertion had taken his new strength out of him, blood loss and lack of sleep ganging up on him and ordering him to rest. When he woke again Masashi was in the bed beside him. Awake this time and watching him.

“I've never seen you asleep before,” Masashi commented, “You're cute, like a child.”

“I hardly believe you could think of me as a child,” Yuki muttered, pulling himself up into a sitting position to glare at the other man. “Why didn't you wake me up?”

“You needed sleep,” Masashi answered, “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Yuki snapped, annoyed at the lord for being concerned. He had been so weak the night before, he didn't even want to think about it.

“Kill a man for being concerned why don't you,” Masashi challenged, his irritating smile fading as he saw Yuki's expression. “Or don't. Right now you look like you're actually contemplating it.”

“Perhaps I am,” Yuki replied, “What time is it?”

“Around ten,” Masashi answered. Ten already? He never overslept, ever, but he never failed either and he still felt like he had. If he hadn't been so cocky and took the time for proper surveillance everything would have gone fine. He'd been distracted by what he had seen in the library. For the first time he wondered if the two events had been connected. That package had been the right size and shape to be a shurikan. Whoever that man was, he had just found his way to the top of his suspect list.

“Do you have a guest list, for the masquerade?” Yuki asked, not at all surprised when Masashi handed it to him straight away. They were both the type of man to put work first, he doubted the lord even judged him for wanting to solve this mystery straight away. Every name on this list was a suspect, as were the added names that Masashi had added as various lord and ladies companions.

“I can get you the names of the staff too, and the guards,” Masashi promised, “My head of security has it at the moment, to investigate a murder.”

“Of course,” Yuki agreed, “But none of these lists contain the names of those who slipped in, like Teru, though he's one of the two names I have already ruled out.”

“The second is mine, I hope?” Masashi teased. It hadn't been, he was referring to himself, but he gave the lord a smile and a small nod. Masashi wouldn't have done this to him, he'd have died in the night if he was behind it.

“Masashi, what are we doing?” Yuki asked, remembering that he was half naked in the bed. “We promised to stay away from each other, you should be sending me away and I should be running.”

“I ask myself the same questions,” Masashi confessed, “But what we had, it meant something, didn't it? Why else would you come here in your time of need?”

“A shinobi doesn't have a time of need,” Yuki found himself snapping, angry at his own vulnerability. It was clear Masashi was waiting for a real answer, but it wasn't an answer that he was ready to give. Silently he got out of the bed, got dressed and slipped out of Masashi's room. He couldn't be weak again, his screaming heart would just have to remain ignored.

 

Teru had been preparing himself for Kamijo's visit for hours, not that he would ever admit it. His heart was betraying him, something he had never prepared for. If Yuki ever found out that he, the golden shinobi of their clan, could have such an ordinary weakness he would never live it down. Yuki wouldn't falter like this, he was better than that.

My father's weakness, Teru thought as he caught himself thinking about Kamijo again. His father had fallen head over heels in love with his mother, had almost messed up everything until he had found a way to make everything work out in his favour. She had joined the clan, and betrayed her own. Things wouldn't be so simple with the lord. Perhaps he wouldn't even come? Even though he had said that we would.

He should have known the lord wouldn't break such a promise, for around the early afternoon he arrived at the shop. He requested to speak privately in the back room, and leaving Yuki to run the store alone they vanished into the back room. Yuki had done the exact same thing to him that morning, not showing up until only an hour before. He said little about what had happened, but Teru had heard the rumours about the body found in the palace that morning.

“I should apologise,” Kamijo began, so nervous that he was barely recognisable. What had happened to the confident young man from the night before? He wouldn't have thought that his rejection of Kamijo's advancements would result in this. “I was too forward yesterday. I made assumptions and, well made an ass out of myself. You need to understand you're not the first man I've met that likes to dress in women's clothes. You and Machi, just two names on a very long list. I stereotyped you and that was wrong of me.”

“I'm not angry,” Teru replied, “It's just that...”

“You're not into men, that's fine.” Kamijo finished.

“Used to love,” Teru corrected.

“Oh,” Kamijo said, his understanding suggesting he had made yet another assumption about Teru's feelings, “You're still in the curious phrase? Struggling to figure out what it is you want? What you like?”

“Something like that,” Teru relented, “But I do like you. Please don't get the wrong idea.”

“Just go slow?” Kamijo finished, “This is what I like about you Teru, you never let the fact I'm a Lord prevent you from being honest with me. I want to be honest with you. Can I trust you?”

“Last time you were honest with me, you kissed me,” Teru reminded him, “So yes, you can be honest.”

“This is more of a secret, something not entirely legal, but something I think you will be interested in.” Kamijo began to explain. “Have you ever been to the theatre?”

“Of course not,” Teru answered. The theatre had been made outlawed over a century ago, due to it's long history of being a front for a whole list of crimes; Gambling, drugs, prostitution. “They're illegal.”

“I know,” Kamijo said, a wicked smile playing on his lips, “But I brought one back.”

 

It seemed Kamijo was well aware of the vast tunnels and passageways in his palace, and was using them to his advantage. It had been easy for him to show Teru the way to the grand underground theatre. It was stunning, as detailed and decadent as the palace above and Kamijo had secretly funded it, just so he could get the chance to see the plays he had loved to read.

“This is amazing,” Teru exclaimed as Kamijo showed him around the public areas. The crowd were chosen carefully, but Kamijo admitted he filled the seats of most shows.

“The last play didn't turn out as well as I had hoped,” Kamijo confessed, “People were a little shocked by the idea of sparkling vampires.”  
“You're vampires sparkled?” Teru questioned, “Why?”

“I thought it would make them look pretty under the stage lights,” Kamijo explained, “My theatre manager and star, Hizaki, told me that it would never work. He was right.”

“Of course he was right,” teased one of the actors who had been busy stocking shelves in the bar area. It seemed every actor here doubled their job description in some way. Less people to share the secret perhaps? Kamijo didn't seem the type to be cheap for no reason. “Hizaki knows his way around the stage far better than you ever will.”

“For every play Hizaki has read, I've read a hundred more,” Kamijo protested, making the actor smile.

“Shame none of those plays taught you that vampires don't sparkle.” The actor teased, shaking his head in laughter as he disappeared back stage.

“He seemed comfortable around you,” Teru noted, “Is that why you like it here? It's a place to be your real self?”

“I don't know,” Kamijo replied, “Perhaps a little, but even here I'm still the boss. It's not the same, but I do love it down here more than anywhere above the city. Especially when the play is on, which is about half an hour away. Let me show you to my private box.”

Obediently Teru followed Kamijo the best seats in the house, or beneath the house as it were, and flipped through the program that had been waiting on the small table as Kamijo hurried back to check on the finishing touches. He recognised the actor from the bar, dressed in a beautiful gown in the brochure for his role as the black swan. He wasn't familiar with Swan Lake, but could gather it was about two cursed sister's fighting over the affection of the prince who could save them. The black swan was played by a man named here as Jasmine You, a fitting choice.

He gasped as he turned the page and lay eyes on the white swan. He, for like the black swan the white swan was played by a man, was beautiful. Endless blond curls, sparkling eyes and a playful smile. He was just as perfect for the role as Jasmine You had been for the black swan. It was almost like this play had been written just for them. None of this though was what caught Teru's attention, he knew this man, had seen his image before. Hizaki, as fake a name as any other in the brochure.

“Masasya,” Teru whispered under his breath. Kamijo had led him straight to the man he had been searching for all this time, declaring his own guilt in the process. He quickly flipped through the brochure again, counting eight men among the cast, slightly more than the men he already knew to be missing.

His mind figured out the picture in an instance. The lord seduced men, brought them here and added them to the staff of his theatre. Was he destined to be next? He needed to talk to one of these actors, alone if possible, but before he could get up Kamijo had returned with some more drinks.

“What do you think?” Kamijo asked, unaware that anything was wrong.

“I think the casting has been done well,” Teru admitted, “Though I was wondering. How does a man end up down here? How do you find your talent?”

“It's easy,” Kamijo explained, “I can always see the precious men among a crowd of dull stones. Hizaki is my gold, Jasmine a sapphire, Kaya as dark as an onyx and you are silver.”

“You would keep me here?” Teru asked, “Should I consider myself kidnapped?”

“Only if that is what you desire. To leave I only need your promise of silence. Would you take me as a monster?” Kamijo demanded, clearly hurt by Teru's accusation. If he was to be believed, these men were all here willingly. He remembered Jasmine's playful smile and let himself relax. Whatever trait Kamijo was looking for, he had, but that wasn't a signal to draw his blade.

“You're not a monster,” Teru reassured him, accepting Kamijo's arm across his shoulders. Far from it, he was beginning to see Kamijo as some kind of saint.

 


	7. Chapter 7

It had been easy enough to get a chance to talk to Masasya, no Hizaki, alone. Kamijo with all his secrets, easily believed the lies of those he wanted to trust. Hizaki too was friendly and easy going, more than happy to talk about his life in the theatre.

“Are you interested in the theatre?” Hizaki eventually asked, his intelligent eyes waiting for Teru's answer. The question took him by surprise, it certainly wasn't something that he had ever considered.

“It was never an option, so I never thought about it,” he answered carefully. His whole life had been a production, every day he played the role of a normal man. The kind of man who wouldn't kill a stranger in their sleep.

“I was the same,” Hizaki confessed. “I knew that I liked to play pretend. When I was a boy, I was teased for my softer features. It made it worse that I loved nature's beauty; flowers, birds, butterflies, the way the fountain in the courtyard was lit up at night with tiny lights.”

“The courtyard?” Teru asked. He knew very little of his client, only that he had the money to pay to retrieve his lost child.

“My father was a wealthy merchant, like yourself I guess?” Hizaki replied, “We had a nice home, nothing in comparison to what Kamijo has here of course.”  
“I doubt even the Queen home is so decadent,” Teru agreed.

“Kamijo told me the royal family prefer a more minimalist, traditional look.” Hizaki confirmed, “Lord Masashi too.”

“You were telling me that you liked to play pretend?” Teru prompted.

“If the boys would treat me like a girl, I would dress like one,” Hizaki explained with a wink, “Some of the boys even fell in love with me, but the only ones I took home were those who saw me for who I truly was: A man who happens to appreciate the more beautiful parts of life.”

“Your father didn't approve?” Teru guessed.

“Father didn't care,” Hizaki corrected. “He knew why I dressed the way I did, and when it came to love, he just wanted me to be happy.”

“So, you talk to him now?” Teru asked. How could Hizaki have such a good relationship with his father? Had he not run away from home? Vanished from the world without a word?

“No,” Hizaki replied, his smile fading. “He wanted me to stay at home, I preferred the capital. He wanted me to keep a steady man, I fell for a player. He wanted me to run his business by his side, I didn't. That's all I will say on the matter.”

“Kamijo, he's the player?” Teru guessed. He'd suspected as much already. The lord was too much of a flirt, nothing permanent could ever happen with him.

“He's great, at first,” Hizaki explained, “Loyal and loving, a prince among men. He likes the chase, the early days. When reality settles in, he grew bored. We grew bored. It made more sense to break up and be friends, than it was to be lovers. He flutters from one man to the next, every time believing that this man is the one who will convince him to settle down at long last.”

 

Concealed in the shadows Yuki watched as Masashi walked into the mail centre, frowning as he heard the order to reveal the letter Teru had previously asked to be sent. He was shocked that it was handed over without question, the lord reading it with a blank expression before handing the letter back and leaving the building without another word. He was spying on them, just as Yuki has suspected.

In the intention of damage control, he quickly retrieved the letter that appeared to just be a report to Teru's father on the merchandise sales in the city. He knew better, between the lines it read 'Target found, retrieval in process.' Who was the target, more importantly would Masashi have understood the message. What would he do if he had?

He spent the rest of the day silently following Masashi, unseen. The lord had gone straight to Kamijo, questioning him subtly about his day. It shocked Yuki to learn that there was a theatre built beneath the town, and more so that he and Masashi talked about it freely. Like Masashi he concluded that whoever Teru had been looking for, worked in that theatre.

He returned to their temporary home, finding Teru sat in a windowsill with a thoughtful expression. He broke the news of Masashi's surveillance, relieved that this time Teru didn't try to blame him for the whole mess.

“At this point, it doesn't matter,” Teru replied. “I thought I was going to uncover some great crime, instead I find a man following his own dreams.”

“What's your mission?” Yuki asked, “Surely I should know, before Masashi finds out.”

“To find a missing man and return him to his father.” Teru answered. “Masashi can watch all he wants, all he'll see is me making friends.”

“I expected more reluctance,” Yuki replied, Teru only shrugged. “There's another shinobi clan here, Masashi has hired me to find them.”

“You share that willingly?” Teru teased, “Aren't you supposed to be the perfect shinobi?”

“Far from it,” Yuki answered. He reframed to tell Teru what had happened, but the silver haired man clearly guessed something had gone wrong.

“If a man falls for a man, grows bored and moves to another, does it make him bad?” Teru asked, “To be intimate with someone, and then leave, sounds incredibly cruel.”

“Relationships end,” Yuki reminded him, “Not always painfully. Are you interested in someone, at long last? I never thought I would see the day!”

“Just thinking over what someone has told me,” Teru corrected. “I will not share my father's weakness.”

“Emotions aren't so easy to turn off,” Yuki scolded. He should know, his feelings for Masashi refused to fade.

“Then don't let them turn on,” Teru replied. Was it really so easy for him? Perhaps, if he had never been in love. He didn't know what it was like to think about a man in every waking moment. To want and need them, and know that you must stay away. He was weak around Masashi, how long until he gave in? By now he knew it was inevitable.

“Do you really believe everything we were once told?” Yuki asked.

“No,” Teru answered, “I'm wondering now if I should have believed any of it at all.”

“Your words hint at treachery,” Yuki warned. When Teru didn't answer, he walked away. He'd learnt what his friend was up to, only to realise that he knew nothing at all.

 

Teru slipped into the theatre and smiled as Jasmine greeted him at the door. He'd agreed to play a small part in the upcoming production, which meant he was also expected to do some work behind the scenes. Today they were painting some of the backdrops, in his case the castle drawbridge and walls.

“You're really good at that,” Jasmine remarked as Teru pulled out the boards he had been working on. “Did you draw all that?”

“This, it's nothing,” Teru replied, giving up a part of himself despite the training that taught him that he shouldn't, “I've been drawing since I was a child.”

“It's paid off,” Jasmine replied. “Could you help me with mine? The lake looks off to me.”

“Just a little,” Teru agreed, “Here, why don't I redraw the whole thing and you start painting mine?”

“That bad, huh?” Jasmine asked. He didn't seem hurt by Teru's comments, if anything he was amused. Switching projects Teru worked silently for awhile, more relaxed than he could ever remember being. That was until Jasmine began to pry. “Are you in love with Kamijo?”

“No!” Teru exclaimed, a little too quickly. Jasmine laughed at him, knowing perfectly well what that no meant.

“I think everyone here has been in love, or is in love, with Kamijo,” he confided. “He jokes that we're his harem, but this theatre is more where his former lovers end up when he gets bored.”

“You don't sound bitter?” Teru prompted. Once again he was learning things he didn't want to hear, but he couldn't help wanting to know more.

“He seduced me with a better life, where I was free to be me. I thought I loved him, in reality I loved the freedom.” Jasmine explained, “So he let's me go, and makes the same mistake over and over again.”

“He wants to settle down?” Teru asked, smiling when Jasmine nodded.

“If you like him, give him a chance,” he encouraged. “But if you're not interested, be honest with him now. It's no short fall being his friend and not his lover. It's better, in my opinion anyway.”

“Easier,” Teru agreed. The thoughts in his head were growing dangerous now, as he wondered if it was possible for him to disappear like every other man here. He lost himself in the project, enjoying the lake boards far more than the castle.

“My Lord,” Jasmine suddenly greeted someone, bowing his head low, though he didn't bother to get up. Without looking Teru knew it wasn't Kamijo. He didn't want to look, but he made himself turn around and bow to Masashi as he approached with a face like thunder.

“What is he doing here?” Masashi demanded. It was clear that he didn't usually speak to Jasmine like this, but then it probably wasn't normal for him to be so angry.

“Kamijo invited him,” Jasmine answered, “Look at how well he can draw.”

“Where is Kamijo?” Masashi asked, further angered to learn that Kamijo wasn't around. “Teru, let's talk.” It wasn't a request, it was an order. So with Jasmine watching he followed Masashi to a private room, mentally checking that he had remembered to hide several knifes on him.

“You should stop snooping around,” Teru informed Masashi coldly, “You think I don't know that you have a spy in our clan? That you recognised me the moment you saw me?”

“I agree, we should stop playing these games,” Masashi replied. “When I find Kamijo, I'm telling him everything. You know too much. I won't let you put him at risk.”

“Relax, I have no intentions of giving away his secrets,” Teru answered. He studied Masashi for a long moment, realising that their was only one way out of this situation.

“So, Jasmine is your target?” Masashi guessed. Of course, he had walked in on them working together and jumped to conclusions.

“Hizaki,” Teru answered. “His father has paid the clan to find him, and bring him home. What? It's not the dark motives you expected? I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but I wish no harm on your friend or anyone here. Hizaki will return home on his own will, sooner or later, I'll get paid and then I'll be gone.”

“Breaking Kamijo's heart in the process,” Masashi finished. “The fool has only gone and fallen for you. He never learns.”

“Kamijo loves me?” Teru asked, stunned by the knowledge. “He barely knows me.”

“And then you turned up at the ball, in a dress of all things. He never can resist a man in women's clothes.” Masashi explained. The two men stood, watching each other for awhile, waiting for the other to make a move. It was Masashi who broke first, Teru could have stood their all day if he had to. “Tonight you tell Kamijo you're only intention is to be his friend.”

“If I don't?” Teru asked.

“Consider this mission of yours over,” Masashi replied with a dark smile, “The same goes if I hear even the smallest rumour that Hizaki is forced to do anything against his will. Do you hear me Teru? Hurt any member of this theatre, and I will never stop hunting you down.”

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

Teru's hand had been shaking when he returned, so much so that Jasmine noticed and gently led him to the bar for a drink to calm his nerves. He didn't question what had happened, waiting for Teru to tell him everything.

“He told me to stay away from Kamijo,” he admitted. “He doesn't like me.”

“I noticed as much,” Jasmine replied, “What are you going to do?”

“The exact opposite,” Teru said, defiance blazing in his eyes. “I won't take orders from him. Who does he think he is?”

“He's a lord,” Jasmine reminded him. “You would really openly defy him?”

“He's not the only lord,” Teru pointed out, sipping the drink Jasmine had made him. “Masashi doesn't need to know.”

“I'd argue, but honestly, there's nothing Kamijo loves more than the excitement of secrets.” Jasmine admitted. “It's just like a play we did last year. Star-crossed lovers, it's kind of romantic. Don't you think?”

“How did the play end?” Teru asked, “I doubt it was happily.”

“The girl faked her death, the boy committed suicide thinking she was dead, then she ended up killing herself too.” Jasmine answered, “So perhaps this isn't like the play at all.”

“Perhaps,” Teru agreed, though death was often how things ended up in his life. He finished his drink and the two returned to the backdrops, working without incident until Kamijo arrived and told them both to finish for the night.

 

Teru spent the evening at Kamijo's side, spinning the story of how Masashi would do anything to keep them apart. He watched with a smirk as Kamijo challenged Masashi, letting him know that he had no right to get involved in his love life. In retaliation Masashi told Kamijo the truth, but the blonde refused to believe it. Teru's warnings had paid off. The brief peace between Masashi and himself had ended, but he had never wanted that peace in the first place.

“I'm sorry, I don't know what's gotten into him,” Kamijo apologised as he led Teru back to his rooms. “He's never been like this before.”

“I don't know what I've done,” Teru complained. “He's hated me from the moment he first saw me.”

“It's so strange,” Kamijo agreed, “I'm glad you told me. I'll protect you, just let me know if he crosses you again?”

“Thank you,” Teru replied, smiling sweetly at the other man. He leant over, gently kissing the lord with a racing heart. Being told Kamijo was off limits, had only made him want him. Rebellion fuelled him to accept Kamijo's growing passion, his body surprising him in it's willingness to accept the lord. For the first time, he wasn't repelled by another's lustful touch. For the first time, it actually felt good.

“Do you want me to stop?” Kamijo asked, clearly surprised when Teru shook his head. “You've never done this before?”

“I won't run this time,” Teru promised. It was the answer that Kamijo wanted. They kissed once more, his body pushed down onto the softest bed he had ever laid on. His arms wrapped around Kamijo, holding him close as they kissed again and again.

“If you ask me to stop, or slow down, I will,” Kamijo reassured him, “Don't be afraid.”

“Fear is the last thing on my mind,” Teru answered. How could fear find a foothold, when his entire focus was on how good it felt to defy Masashi's orders? A current of lust and desire ran beneath and it was these emotions that made him reach up to help Kamijo out of his shirt.

Distracted by kisses, Teru never had the opportunity to be nervous, despite everything being so new to him. He had nothing to worry about, as Kamijo lead him through everything. Reassuring him that it wouldn't hurt at all. Teru didn't believe him at first, but as one finger after another slid inside him without pain, he knew that Kamijo had told the truth.

He spread his legs further, willing Kamijo to stretch him more. Was this what sex was like? No wonder he had never found pleasure, he had never known that it came from a spot that had been secret for so long.

“Once you've had a man, you can't go back,” Kamijo warned. This time Teru believed him without question. Only a man could slide their hardness into the one place that cried out to be touched so intimately. His legs and arms wrapped around the lord, their bodies moving as one.

 

Teru lay in the bed, watching the sleeping lord with a smile. It was surprising how happy he was just being close to him He would have given himself far sooner, had he known that it would feel like this.

It bemused him that Masashi's attempts at pulling them apart, had only made them closer. Would he have ever given his body away for pleasure before? He knew himself well enough to know that he probably wouldn't have. Now though, whenever Kamijo asked he would be willing. His father's weakness, surprisingly, was also his own.

He stayed for breakfast, placing a kiss on Kamijo's cheek when Masashi came to try and make amends. The dark haired lord threw him a look of disgust, before leaving without a word. Once again Kamijo apologised for Masashi's actions, an apology Teru accepted through he knew Masashi's hatred was partly deserved.

He returned to the theatre after they had eaten, this time convincing Hizaki to help with the backdrops. He was so easy to befriend, especially with Jasmine there to keep the conversation going when he had no idea what to say. That evening he returned to Kamijo's room, giving him his body again.

A couple of weeks passed like this, through several days he had to make a pretence of caring enough about his shop to leave and manage it. He could have continued like this forever, but when Yuki found the enemy clan and had to transport his captive home his days of leisure were over. Someone had to run the shop, and with Yuki gone that responsibility remained entirely his.

 

Teru looked up at the sound of a customer entering the shop. He smiled in delight to see his friend, and rushed over to wrap Hizaki in a hug. He pulled back, as surprised as Hizaki was by his show of affection. When had he ever been the one to initiate a touch? Only Hizaki was more than a friend to him, he and Jasmine felt more like brothers.

“So, this is where you've been hiding?” Hizaki teased.

“Yuki had to leave, for personal reasons,” Teru answered, “Someone has to run this place.”

“Couldn't you hire someone?” Hizaki asked, “We miss you. The backdrops won't be the same without you there to at least draw the last few.”

“My father would kill me,” Teru answered. A shinobi never destroyed his front for employment. It was the first step to removing your disguise.

“I understand,” Hizaki said, browsing the merchandise with a critical eye. “But he doesn't need to know. Kamijo could pay someone for you, if it's about the money? Don't argue with me, I see it in your eyes. It'll be like you're being paid to work in the theatre, right? The rest of us get a home, and allowance, why shouldn't you?”

“You're asking me to live in the theatre?” Teru realised.

“Or above it,” Hizaki said with a wink, “The idiot has been pining for you. I told him to just come and visit you, but would he listen?”

“He can be stubborn,” Teru admitted. “You don't know my father though, he'll be so mad.”

“Like mine wasn't?” Hizaki asked.

“Don't you regret it, leaving on such bad terms?” Teru asked.

“Sometimes,” Hizaki admitted. “Sometimes I wonder if it's possible to ever make amends.”

“You could try,” Teru promoted. “Why don't you visit him? If it doesn't work out, well then at least you'll know.”

 

“Thank you, sir,” Yuki said, bowing low to the clan chief before taking his leave. He was used to returning home to praise, but this time he wasn't so sure he had deserved it. He'd completed his mission, and corrected his own mistake, but somehow it felt like a cheap victory.

There was still one more secret to uncover, Yuki realised as he looked over the familiar faces of his clan. Someone here was a traitor, could he figure out who? He hadn't had chance to see the clan elder alone, hadn't dared mention it in front of others. What if he didn't tell anyone? If he just happened to stumble across a spy, among his own people, that would surely give him the much needed edge over Teru.

He needed to be the elder, it was the only way for him to accept he was the best. For that reason it meant more to him than to Teru, who was merely pleasing his father. He smiled at the thought of this opportunity, knowing that Teru's easier mission wasn't doing him any favours in this regard.

“Yuki!” a young girl greeted him with a large hug.

“Hey Juri,” Yuki greeted her, “How are you?”

“I've been very good!” she declared. With false innocence she smiled up at him, “Have you just been paid?”

“Not a single yen,” he answered. She pouted at him, completely irresistible.

“Liar,” she accused.

“You've caught me,” Yuki agreed, laughing, “Fine, for being so smart I suppose we should go into town and buy you some sweets.”

“We should,” she agreed as she took his hand.

“So Juri, what have you been up to?” Yuki asked her. Juri was his cousin, but might as well be his younger sister. In the whole clan, she was the only one he was ever affectionate towards.

“I've been learning how to balance on the beams,” she told him, all smiles though Yuki couldn't share her enthusiasm. A shinobi, or kunoichi, was trained from the moment they could walk and talk. Juri didn't realise it, but she was already being trained as a killer. It was good enough for him, why they did he feel that it wasn't good enough for her? Another weakness, he was flawed beyond ever being whole. How long until the clan saw that? He had to assure he was the elder first. Only then could he have a say in his own fate.

 

“He wants me to travel with him,” Teru explained, “Is it really so wrong that Hizaki should make amends?”

“No,” Kamijo replied, with a sigh that suggested that perhaps it was. “I know it's selfish, but he's my star. I can't lose him. What if he doesn't want to come back?”

“He deserves his happiness, wherever that may be.” Teru scolded his lover.

“I know that,” Kamijo complained. With another sigh he helped himself to a glass of wine.

“Is Hizaki so special?” Teru asked.

“He was my first,” Kamijo admitted. Noticing the jealousy in Teru's eyes straight away. “Don't look at me like that, you're my lover now. Not him.”

“I heard that you sleep with the actors,” Teru accused, “Whenever your lonely or bored.”

“Should I deny it?” Kamijo asked, “Tell you that I would never touch any of them again? I'd be a liar, and you wouldn't believe me. With you by my side, I am neither lonely or bored. Does that help bring you peace?”

“If I travelled with Hizaki? If we're gone for a week, a month?” Teru probed. Why was he even asking? Once he had Hizaki with his father, he'd be paid and gone. This jealousy was so absurd!

“No matter how long, I promise you that you'll remain my only one,” Kamijo answered. “On one condition, you remind me now why it is I should remain loyal only to you.”

“You manipulating bastard!” Teru scolded, he'd been played the whole time! One day he'd make Kamijo pay for his deception. First, he was going to do as Kamijo wanted. It was only the right thing to do.

 


	9. Chapter 9

The two men rode into the courtyard, dismounting their horses by a large fountain. It'd been a long ride, taking several days, but it had been pleasant enough. Teru was curious to see Hizaki's home, sadly wondering if this would mean the end of his days at Kamijo's side.

Beside him Hizaki was nervous, but he was hiding it well enough. He was trying to make a point, that a man could do as they wished without facing their father's wrath, but he was doing it badly. Besides, his father wasn't the Elder of a powerful shinobi clan.

A servant let them in quickly, leading them to a living room and running off to fetch her master. They waited in silence, standing when an older man arrived, he was obviously Hizaki's father. He greeted his son warmly, making time to also welcome in their guest.

“Masaya, you saw sense at long last,” the man replied, sharing a look with Teru that made it obvious that he knew he was the one who had been paid to make this possible. “Have you been well? You look healthy enough.”

“More than well,” Hizaki reassured him, “It's Hizaki now.”

“Hizaki,” his father repeated, his expression was strained but he didn't criticise his son for changing his name. He seemed defeated, Teru noted, willing to do anything to bring his son home. It was practically unheard of to find a client with such pure intentions. “You always insist on testing me, don't you?”

“It's not a test,” Hizaki corrected. “Just the way things are. Don't get your hopes up, I'm not here to stay.”

“Then why are you here?” his father demanded, “Have you not already broken my heart enough?”

“Must you be this way?” Hizaki demanded, “Is your business worth more to you than your son's happiness?”

“I need an heir, when will you come to your senses?” the man answered. This wasn't going as Teru had hoped, but how could he bring this around? Before he got a chance the men started arguing, forgetting he was even there.

“I was wrong to come here,” Hizaki finally declared, “I see now that there's no chance to make amends.”

“Do you love whatever man you're with so much?” his father demanded. “Enough to break your father's heart?”

“I love him,” Hizaki confirmed, “But it isn't about you and him, it's about me. Why can't you just let me be happy?”

“Your happiness is by my side!” his father argued. With a shake of his head Hizaki got up to leave, helplessly Teru found himself following him. He'd done as required, but he doubted the client would consider this a job well done.

 

The letter was waiting for him by the time he got home. He read it silently, burning the paper once he was done. He had feared that this might happen, but had prayed that it wouldn't. Touching his cheek, he realised that he was crying. Did Kamijo mean so much to him?

The client had ordered for the man Hizaki loved to be killed, and his son forcibly returned. He knew exactly what man the client meant, for it was Hizaki's love for Kamijo that kept him here. He'd be jealous, but he'd seen the way Hizaki and Kamijo were around each other. Comrades, co-owners of the theatre, friends.

He prepared himself for his meeting with Kamijo that night. This time slipping a knife into the sheaf in his boot. Why did he have to do this? He cursed the fates over and over again. A shinobi didn't fall in love, his feelings weren't allowed to be real. Perhaps his affection for Kamijo had become tangled with his discovery of sexual pleasure? He'd find someone else, this time knowing not to get emotionally attached.

“You look sad,” Kamijo noted as he led him into his rooms. Teru nodded, and explained what had happened with Hizaki. “It's not your fault Teru. Hizaki doesn't blame you for trying. He told me so himself. He's just relieved to finally have closure.”

“Please Kamijo, I don't want to talk tonight,” Teru begged. Talking hurt too much. Kamijo was too kind, he didn't deserve to die. Getting his hints, Kamijo leant over to kiss him.

“Why are you crying?” Kamijo asked, Teru shook his head. He couldn't answer. Reaching down he drew the knife, his hand shaking on the hilt. He had to do this, he had to. His father, no he couldn't even think about what might happen if he betrayed him.

The knife fell on the table, as the tears began to flow for real. He had failed this mission, he refused to repair his mistake. Kamijo didn't deserve to die. There wasn't even a fraction of evil inside him. He was good, so very good. He was the one filled with the darkness.

“I'm supposed to kill you,” Teru got out, unable to look at the other man. “I've lied to you the whole time, I'm not a merchant.”

“A shinobi,” Kamijo finished, “And Masashi found out? Stupid! Why didn't I trust my closest friend?”

“I'm so sorry,” Teru whispered. “There's a mark on both our heads now.”

“I won't run,” Kamijo snapped. “I should arrest you.”

“He'll kill me,” Teru begged. “Please let me run, I swear I'll never come back to your city again.”

“All this time, you were here to end my life?” Kamijo accused. “Of course they would send you, the boy on the swing.”

“No!” Teru exclaimed, “I was here to bring Hizaki home. Which I did! Only now his father blames you that Hizaki refused to stay. My orders changed. Kill you, force him home.”

“Hizaki's father is the client?” Kamijo demanded. Teru nodded miserably.

“It's my father though who will hunt me. Let me run!” He begged. “Please, I spared your life. Spare mine.” They sat in silence, so long that Teru's tears dried up. No guards were called, no words were spoken. Eventually Kamijo broke the silence.

“Beneath my home, there is a theatre full of men who have a need to hide.” Kamijo began, “The way I see it, you are no different. You're love to me, has ended with your family rejecting you. Like them, I make the same offer; Would you like to join my family?”

“You want me to live in the theatre?” Teru asked. “After I betrayed you?”

“Did you though?” Kamijo asked, “Your feelings for me seem genuine enough. I get the impression that you've never broken orders from your family before.”

“I was the best, one of them,” Teru admitted, “I've never even hesitated before. I've killed plenty of men and women, you know.”

“Pledge your blade to me,” Kamijo ordered, “For your loyalty, I will hide you. What choice do you have?”

“They'll come for you,” Teru warned.

“And you will protect me,” Kamijo finished. Could it be possible? He'd never used his skills to stop another shinobi before, but it could be done. He knew the secrets, the tricks. He could keep Kamijo safe.

“I'll pledge my loyalty,” Teru declared. “My feelings for you were never fake, or forced. Against my training, I fell in love.”

“I know,” Kamijo replied softly. Carefully he led Teru through the ceremony and took him down to the theatre, into Hizaki's care.

 

Teru was just finishing drawing the last of the backdrops when Masashi arrived. Surprisingly he didn't seem angry, silently studying Teru's work without judgement. He knew, Teru realised as their eyes met, and he was grateful.

“We've doubled the guards in Kamijo's rooms,” Masashi explained, picking up a brush and beginning to paint in the sky. “He reported a failed assassination attempt.”

“It must be a poor assassin, to fail a man as careless as him,” Teru answered.

“If I met the assassin, I would thank him for being so poor,” Masashi replied. “I heard you're the one who saved him?”

“I put him at risk in the first place,” Teru corrected. Stepping back to admire the finished picture. He reached for the green paint, beginning on the grass below. “Have you two made up your differences?”

“Naturally,” Masashi replied, “You're a clever man Teru. I was wrong to give you an ultimatum.”

“If you hadn't, I never would have slept with him,” Teru remarked, “The touch of the flesh, I thought I hated it, but I seduced him in an act of rebellion. Seduced myself to his touch. He's the kindest man I have ever known. To kill I focus on the darkness, he had none.”

“I could have told you that,” Masashi agreed. “My warning still stands. Hurt Kamijo, and I'll hunt you to the ends of the earth. Protect him, as you have sworn to do, then know you have no need to fear my wrath.”

“Is that your offer of friendship?” Teru teased. The lord placed the paintbrush down and gave him an unreadable look.

“I wouldn't go that far,” he answered. “But from my perspective, we're no longer enemies.”

 

“Do you know why you're here?” the Elder asked, as Yuki kneeled before him patiently.

“I can only think it has to do with the spy I caught,” Yuki answered honestly. It was rare to get the Elder's praise, and he hadn't been expecting it.

“That was impressive, nobody suspected a thing,” the Elder confirmed, “Unfortunately that's not why you're here. My son has betrayed the clan, leaving you the only one worthy of being my heir.”

“Teru betrayed us?” Yuki asked, “How? Why?”

“It pleases me that you know nothing,” the Elder commented, “Should I have an indication you had worked together, well I would have no means to ever retire. Teruaki broke a clients orders, alerting his mark before disappearing.”

“Who was his mark?” Yuki asked, “Kamijo? I know he was growing fond of him. But not to that extent! I would have stopped him, of course.”

“And you will,” the Elder replied. “Your mission is to repair the damage. Do you understand?”

“Please the client, eliminate the traitor,” Yuki answered. Kill Teru. If that was what it took to be Elder, he would have to go through with it. “You are aware that he is my friend?”

“Was your friend, I hope,” the Elder answered. “This Yuki, is the test you've been waiting for. Upon your success, you will officially be named my heir. You know better than to fail.”

 


	10. Chapter 10

Knowing the castle well, Yuki was sure Teru was still hiding somewhere in the castle walls. He'd spent half the day exploring, before finally locating the theatre below. Sure enough, there was Teru working on some painting project with a dark haired man and a blond. Hizaki, he thought, the clients son. He'd decided to tackle the easier part of the mission first, returning Hizaki to his father once and for all. So he lurked and waited, until finally he caught Hizaki alone.

“You stay from me!” Hizaki ordered, drawing a knife on the man in his bedroom. “I know what you are.”

“And I know who you are, Masasya,” Yuki agreed. “If you'd just stayed home, none of this mess would have happened.”

“You think I don't know that?” Hizaki demanded. “I had no idea my father was capable of such a thing! To try and assassinate someone, what was he thinking?”

“He was desperate,” Yuki agreed. “Look, for both of us it'll be easier if you come willingly. The clan doesn't care about Kamijo either way, they just want payment. Convince your father to retract the order and pay for your return. You know that's the only way to spare Kamijo's life.”

“It's be easier for you to have killed him,” Hizaki commented. “Why are you going down this route?” Why was he, Yuki wondered. He hadn't really thought about it before, it had simply felt like the safest course of action.

“Kill him, or not, I have to get you home either way,” Yuki answered, “This way is quicker, and if you fail, it hasn't damaged my mission at all.”

“Teru is your friend,” Hizaki corrected, “You know he lost everything protecting Kamijo, so you don't want it to be meaningless.”

“Don't analyse my actions, are you coming willingly or not?” Yuki demanded.

 

Teru read the note with a frown, before handing it back over to Kamijo. It looked like Hizaki's handwriting, but many could fake it.

“Well?” Kamijo demanded. “Do you know what this means.”

“They've sent someone to finish my mission,” Teru concluded. “But that paper smelt faintly of him, so I believe he did write the note.”

“You're sure that they'll send Yuki?” Masashi asked.

“Positive. He matches me in every way, and knows me more than any other member of the clan,” Teru confirmed, “He's the perfect choice. They'll bribe him with the position of the Elder's heir. It'll all he's ever wanted. I believe he'll do anything to prove himself, with the least amount of effort. To Yuki, simplicity is the true show of talent.”

“He broke into Hizaki's rooms, and encouraged him to return home,” Masashi concluded. “It sounds like him.”

“Should I be worried?” Kamijo asked. “Wasn't my death part of the mission?”

“Yes, you should worry,” Teru replied, “But more for what Hizaki will agree to, in his attempts to save you.”

“Hizaki is going to convince his father to withdraw the order,” Masashi realised, “That's why there's no sign of a fight.”

“The idiot!” Kamijo snapped, “He didn't need to do this.”

“If he didn't, he'd be dragged home in chains,” Teru corrected.

“For now, we need to trust Hizaki will be fine,” Masashi concluded. “We'll find a way to bring him back later, Kamijo. When all of this has passed over. I'm more concerned that he knows about the theatre. Teru isn't safe there any longer.”

“Four days, maybe five,” Teru agreed, “Once he's finished bringing Hizaki home I'll be next. Assuming of course that Hizaki succeeds in saving Kamijo. I'm sure he will though. Hizaki is clever, and his father acted rashly. A promise to be his willing business partner may be enough.”

“To stop dressing the way he likes, take on the name he hated, date a woman from a good family,” Kamijo listed, “He'll hate it.”

“Hiding Teru won't work,” Masashi said thoughtfully, “And I can't order guards to protect him, but they already protect you. Teru should sleep in your rooms from now on.”

“Perhaps,” Teru agreed. Maybe it would buy him an extra day. No matter how many guards, he was sure Yuki would succeed.

 

“Father how could you?” Hizaki shouted at the older man the moment he entered the room. Yuki sat back, letting the pair discuss things between themselves. To kill Kamijo, to save him. He tossed a coin, it came up heads. “To order the death of an innocent man? What is wrong with you?”

“What is wrong with me?” came the answer, “What is wrong with you? I spoilt you, I see that now. Every whim of yours went unquestioned. How do you thank me? By running away to join a theatre. A theatre! My son, the common whore.”

“I am no whore,” Hizaki snapped back, “Withdraw your order on Kamijo's life, or I'll take your own.”

That made Yuki sit up and pay attention. He'd expected begging and pleading, a shaky truce where neither side was happy. Patricide had never come into consideration.

“You wouldn't,” his father stuttered.

“You don't know me,” Hizaki warned, “Not any more. We're playing this on my terms now. You will pay the shinobis for the work they have done, and withdraw the order on Kamijo's life. Pay in full if you must, whatever it takes. I will return to the city, and you will say nothing on the subject. Break any of these terms, and one night I'll assure you that you won't wake up. Which leads us to a new arrangement. I will visit you on every major holiday, and you will say nothing of my life choices. Understand? If you want a relationship with me, start acting like you mean it!”

“Masaya, Hizaki, You would really visit me on these terms?” the older man asked. To Yuki's surprise he wrapped his son in a hug, the two men bonding for the first time in several years.

Half an hour later he had the full payment in hand, and was riding back to the city. One piece of business left, and he would be the next clan Elder.

 

Teru slipped into Kamijo's bed, with only the intention of sleep. His lover had other things on his mind, kissing Teru for the first time since he had tried to take his life. Surprised, Teru kissed him back, running a hand down Kamijo's spine as he moved his body closer.

“When we met, I said you were silver,” Kamijo reminded him, “I was wrong. I grow bored of precious metals and gems, as you now know. You're not silver at all.”

“I'm steel,” Teru answered, “Nothing but a blade.”

“You're neither,” Kamijo corrected, “And maybe both. You're a kaleidoscope, ever changing, always keeping my interest. When I think I know you, you change again.”

“It's too early for you to say that,” Teru scolded.

“I know it to be true,” Kamijo corrected, “You're different. With you I see a future.”

“I'd like to have one,” Teru agreed. Their lips met again, his legs entwining with Kamijo's own. His passion grew, changing into fear when he felt the steal against his throat.

“Why Teru, I expected you to have a better guard,” Yuki teased. “This man has made you fall, twice now.”

“If you're going to end me, do it quickly.” Teru complained, noticing that Yuki had a blade to Kamijo's throat as well as his own.

“Your hair is your pride and joy,” Yuki noted, “You would never willingly cut it. It defines you.”

“You're making no sense,” Teru objected. Yet the blade left his neck, sliding through his hair instead. What had once been long silver strands, now fell only to his shoulder. The rest sat in Yuki's hand. The shinobi sat on the windowsill, silently conveying his message with his eyes. In a flash he was gone, as if he had never been here at all.

“I don't understand,” Kamijo admitted, making Teru smile. Of course he didn't, he didn't think like a shinobi.

“Tonight, I died,” Teru answered. Quickly he found a knife, cutting his own wrist and bleeding as much as he dared onto the bed. He dropped the knife in the pool of blood, and slipped into the passageway that led to the theatre. “In a minute, start screaming. If possible allow in only guards you can trust. He took my body as evidence, but plenty of people saw me entering your room.”

“Your hair, he's taken it as proof,” Kamijo realised. With a nod Teru vanished, down into the theatre below.

 

The hair fell at the feet of the Elder, who wore an expression that was neither sad or pleased. He gave Yuki a nod of approval, and ordered him out. The mission was done, but they wouldn't speak of the events that had occurred.

Over the next week Yuki was officially named the heir, and things settled down. Many whispered about Teru's betrayal, some even asked about it. He refused to talk, and they accepted his silence as grief for his friend. Nobody once suspected he had betrayed the clan as well.

He'd been home for almost two weeks when the letter arrived, summons from the palace. Warily he opened the letter, surprised to see the letter had come from Masashi himself. He read it twice, unsure of how to react. That evening he broke the news, and rode out of the village for the last time.

 

“Is this serious?” Yuki demanded as he waved the letter in front of Masashi's face. “Captain of your guard? I'm a shinobi, not a soldier!”

“Your the shinobi who slipped past all of Kamijo's guards with ease. Even Teru, a shinobi of your level, couldn't stop you. I think you're perfect for the role.” Masashi concluded. “Besides, you turned down my offer to be my personal shinobi didn't you?”

“I've just been named clan heir!” Yuki protested as Masashi pushed him against the wall. “It's all I ever wanted.”

“Then why are you here?” Masashi demanded, “You've already left the clan, haven't you? You wouldn't travel all this way to say no.”

“Damn you,” Yuki snarled, “You're a manipulative monster!”

“You've called me worse before, I'd say from you that was almost a complement.” Masashi teased. Without another word their lips met in a furious kiss. Oh yes, this was what he had wanted all along. Eagerly he clung to the lord, allowing this to happen. Captain of the guard, more like the toy of the lord. He didn't mind one bit.

Not wasting time Masashi turned him around, pulling his trousers to his ankles and sliding a wet finger into his eager body. It always felt good, with Masashi it was somehow exceptional. He moaned as he braced himself more securely, his legs growing to weak to hold him.

“I'm not here for you,” Yuki warned, “I just wanted to chance to see my friend.”

“Naturally,” Masashi replied, sliding a second finger beside the first. “Nothing here that I could ever offer you.”

“Nothing,” Yuki got out in a gasp. Shutting his eyes he allowed himself just to feel. Masashi's long fingers could reach him deeper than most, and seemed to know just the right way to please him. Never gentle, never with pain.

When Masashi filled him, he let out a moan that filled the whole room. Yes this was what he wanted, what he needed. Their bodies moved quickly, claiming as much as they could after so many lost years.

 

Unbeknownst to the reunited lovers, four floors below, in a hidden theatre bedroom, another lord was making love to a shinobi of his own. I'd be hard pressed to say which couple had the most fun that night, but that shouldn't be too surprising. Yuki and Teru had always managed to match each other in everything that they did. The art of love, was no exception.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I've had to keep my inspiration for this story quiet to avoid spoilers, but now it's over it's safe for me to share. Primarily this story is inspired by the vocaloid song "Even a Kunoichi Needs Love", which is about a young kunoichi who's been brought up not to fall in love, but one day does. The second inspiration came from another vocaloid song "The Madness of Duke Venomania" which is about a Duke who kidnaps women and hides them away in his secret harem. I'm sure you can see how Kamijo's theatre was inspired by this.


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